


Things Just Don't Work Out (Until They Do)

by WindStainedDreams



Series: 629 Karys Avenue [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: 629 Karys Avenue, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Aversa has a terrible no good very bad day that suddenly gets a lot better, Blackmail, Bondage, Chrom is paranoid as fuck, F/F, Fred and Robin are Chrom's bffs, Frederick actually skips class, M/M, Multi, Open Relationships, Robin hates his big sis, Secret Relationships, Sex Toys, Sibling Relationship, The Feather Duster, The Feather Duster Incident is finally here, Threesome, Twins, supportive!Sumia, that sometimes fuck him silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 06:18:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8434849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindStainedDreams/pseuds/WindStainedDreams
Summary: Chrom has to get ready for a charity gala he must attend with his fiancée Sumia, but he has a stop to make first.  
Robin and Frederick have plans.  Many plans.  They all involve skipping class.    
Aversa has a horrible lab partner, can't find what she needs to take her bath, and stumbles upon something that makes everything better.





	

Chrom felt the restrictive cloth of his blue uniform pull as he reached over and presented his military ID to the guards stationed at the gate.  The military compound was strictly monitored and constantly guarded, but with no active campaigns, security was generally lax enough to permit easy comings and goings from base.  Chrom didn’t like to think that he may be getting some extra leeway because of his family; he also hoped that he wasn’t getting more attention than he wanted because of who he was.  

 

“You’re all clear, sir.  Have a good day,” the guard passed back Chrom’s ID and waved to the gate operator.  The lifted gate allowed Chrom through, and he absentmindedly thanked the guard and returned the well wishes before stepping on the gas and driving off base.  He had somewhere he would much rather be. 

 

Chrom stopped by his off-base apartment, slipping quietly past his doorman and taking the elevator up until he reached his penthouse suite.  He quickly stripped off his military uniform and placed it in a compact garment bag, changing into jeans and an old, oversized hoodie.  The stitching tracing the words “The Nordion School of Hospitality, Hotel Management and the Culinary Arts” also didn’t quite suit the young military man, but Chrom buried his face in the fabric bunched by his neck for a few moments anyways.  Old running shoes, muddy and stained, replaced the polished leather boots of his uniform that went into their compartment in his garment bag.  A few more sets of both casual and nicer clothes went into a duffle bag, and a couple of nice suits joined the uniform; Chrom now felt ready enough to slip back out and finally meet up with his friends. 

 

He went down the maintenance stairs at the back corner of the building, knowing that Stahl had taken care of any alarms and cameras.  Chrom felt bad for having to involve his friend in the subterfuge, but Stahl had offered when he’d seen how bothered Chrom was by the situation.  He had volunteered his help quietly, and soon the situation was set up to allow Chrom more freedom than he had ever hoped for; much more than if he was still trying to work things out on his own.

 

The two of them were training to hopefully, one day, become members of the elite Shepherds unit, and undergoing intense physical, mental and moral rigors was part of achieving their dreams.  The military, however, (especially when scrutinising a unit as prestigious as the Shepherds, which Chrom and Stahl so desperately wanted to be a part of) still lived in the Dark Ages in some respects.  If anyone in the military ever found out that Chrom enjoyed the company of men as well as women, well...his dishonourable discharge and court-martialling would be quick to follow.  Not to mention what the families of everyone involved would be put through with the media spectacle that would follow.  Such was the price for being the son of a corrupt military contractor with dreams of an elite military career among the forces his father had betrayed.  For Chrom, secrecy was a must.    

 

He got back into his car, a sleek dark blue sedan.  It was a nice enough car for his position, and it didn’t stand out as much as the white and orange Pegasus that belonged to Vaike, Stahl’s DJ friend.  Chrom pulled out of the parking garage’s utility entrance using the fake parking pass Stahl had somehow gotten a hold of, and started making his way around town.  He did his best to make sure he wasn’t being followed, without seeming all that nervous.  By the time he got to the main Ylisstol University campus, he was sweating; he hated that seeing some of his loved ones made him feel like he was doing something wrong.  It shouldn’t be this way, but until the military caught up with the rest of society, it would have to be like this.  

 

Chrom sighed deeply before he turned off the ignition and pulled out the keys.  The visitor parking lot by Sable House was only half-full, as student parking was further away and free, as long as one had a parking pass from the university.  Hopefully, if Chrom didn’t take too long, no parking officials would notice, and he wouldn’t have to pay for the parking.  Chrom pulled out his personal cell phone and found the number he was looking for.  The white-haired man should be in class; Chrom knew that it wasn’t fair to pry him away from the learning he was so devoted to, but Chrom only had a few hours, and he missed him.

 

_Hey, do you think I could pry you away from Dr. Marth for some fun before the girls get home?_

 

He hit send and waited, scanning the crowds of undergrads, older students and professors milling around: some were chatting, and others were running from building to building; one student’s bag had exploded after running into someone on a longboard, and their papers were flying everywhere.  This was the normal university life he had passed up in favour of a life with the military.  Sometimes Chrom wondered what he would have studied if he hadn’t chosen to dedicate his life to protecting his country.  It was mostly a passing thought, though -- Chrom could see himself doing nothing less than trying to erase his father’s shadow, and protect his people.  

 

He was brought out of his thoughts by the soft pinging of his phone.   _You’re free?  Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the gala thing you have to go to with Sumia tonight?_

 

_It’s not until later and I brought my tuxedo and my uniform with me, so if I play it right, I can just pick Sumia up and it won’t be a problem.  My doorman saw me come in and everyone probably thinks I’m still at my place getting ready._

 

Chrom didn’t expect a novel in response, but he was surprised by the long silence that followed.  He was about to text Robin again when a rapping on the passenger window startled him.  Cursing, his phone fell into the footwell as Chrom glared at his long-time friend, who was laughing as he opened the door and got in.  

 

“The look on your face, Chrom.  Oh my gods.  It was priceless,” Robin managed to get out through his chuckles, once he had mostly caught his breath.  Chrom, in the meantime, was digging around, hoping that he wasn’t scratching his phone’s screen by kicking it around.  The glare Robin got wasn’t enough to quell the laughter, nor was Chrom’s grumbling and cursing.  He finally rescued his phone, muttering under his breath about damned idiots who thought scaring someone was fun.  He brushed off the dirt and examined the phone carefully, making sure that there were no dents or scrapes marring the previously pristine surface. 

 

“You’re just lucky my new phone isn’t broken, asshole,” said Chrom, giving Robin a little shove as the man beside him buckled in.  Robin tossed his bag over his shoulder onto the back seat, and a loud “ooft” made Chrom turn around sharply enough that his seatbelt locked, nearly choking him. 

 

Frederick, leaning into the back of the sedan through the open rear passenger door, gave Robin his most unimpressed look from behind Robin’s bag, which actually made Robin look back sheepishly and apologize for hitting his boyfriend in the face with three advanced-psychology textbooks.  Chrom was glad that at least there was no broken nose, as he watched the brunet struggle with the backpack for a moment.  Once the bag was out of the way, the brunet man finished getting into the back seat, moving Robin’s bag next to Chrom’s things, before putting his own on the seat next to him.  He buckled in, giving Chrom a small smirk, clearly enjoying his bafflement, despite the dangers of getting into Chrom’s car.  

 

The long delay made sense now.  Instead of having the two of them wait for Frederick to escape, Robin had been texting Frederick to convince him to skip out on his lecture, and thus made sure that they could both meet Chrom as soon as humanly possible.  Of course, you can’t be texting two people simultaneously, as often as Robin tried to do such things.  Chrom appreciated that the pale haired man had focused on getting his boyfriend here rather than trying to waste time answering a text.   

 

Chrom really enjoyed the deep connection he saw between them; it was good for them both.  Frederick relaxed more.  Robin had something finally happening right in his life.  And Chrom was lucky enough that they fancied him, too, enough to let him join them in their bed on the rare occasions Chrom couldn’t suppress his needs anymore and sought them out.  They opened themselves up to him, knowing what a haven and release they presented to him, and yet they never asked for anything more than what Chrom could give them in return.  He truly could not find more kind-hearted and loving people if he tried, and he hated that these occasional moments with them could bring the world crashing down on them all.  Even Sumia, his fiancée, welcomed the couple and encouraged Chrom to indulge when he needed, knowing that this was the one thing she couldn’t give Chrom herself.  Besides, Robin and Fred were the closest thing to safe Chrom could be while seeing a man, with no risk of blackmail because they had a lot to lose themselves should it turn into a media spectacle.  Chrom having known them for years as good friends, society would think little of it as long as he was careful not do anything too overt in public, and they could all do as they pleased.  They were a safety net Chrom treasured.  Sometimes it brought tears to Chrom’s eyes -- he was so fortunate to be surrounded by the people who had found themselves connected by these weird, unique threads.  

 

Chrom cleared his throat and roughly shoved the keys into the ignition.  Frederick and Robin didn’t comment on the blank-eyed staring or sudden aggression; Robin merely placed a hand on his knee briefly, before pulling back.  The white haired undergrad then turned to talk to his boyfriend about the classes they were skipping, ignoring Chrom and making it seem like they were just another completely normal group of students that was done on campus for the day.  Chrom turned over the ignition and pulled out of the spot, keeping an eye out for pedestrians as he headed towards the townhouse Frederick and Robin called home.  

 

*****

 

Aversa couldn’t believe it.  Somehow, she had been paired with the most stuck up, useless, and absolute worst lab partner ever, and it was unbelievable.  The professor knew how awful this guy was to work with, and the last few times he’d made him work on his own, ensuring that his failures wouldn’t hurt the other students’ grades.  This time, though, instead of leaving him to work on his own, he had been almost positively gleeful at pairing Useless Idiot with Aversa.    

 

She glared at her classmates as they snickered and joyfully went off to their sections of the field.  The professor was smiling evilly to himself as he checked off attendance and surveyed his pupils dispersing throughout the university’s scientific research woodlot, currently configured for the gathering of ancient human remains.  Aversa was scared to tell her siblings (or her girlfriend), but it seemed like the rumours of their family past were making the rounds again.  Every so often they cropped up, and things got rough for a while.  Judging by the large space most of the other students in her applied forensic anthropology course were giving her, it seemed that this was just the beginning of the stupidity. 

 

“So, _Grima_ , what’s our section?” 

 

Yup, there it was: the condescending, superior smirk.  By his attitude it was clear he thought himself better than her because of who she was.  It was going to be hell in this course.  Hopefully, Aversa would have nothing to do with any of these bastards once the fall semester was over.  It wasn’t like it was her fault her father was a mass-murdering cult leader, and having to deal with his legacy was becoming old hat for her and her brother and sister anyway.  That people were so stupid and petty to keep bringing it up, when it really belonged buried in the past, just went to show why Aversa loved her expeditions abroad so much.  

 

For now, until something a bit more drastic than a shitty lab partner for a single assignment happened, she’d keep quiet.  It wasn’t like it was worth alarming her younger siblings, or angering Anna and Frederick, about something Aversa could easily deal with on her own.  She would, however, keep her eye out for anyone targeting the twins.  That, as whoever was stupid enough to try would learn, was not ever allowed. 

 

“Well, _Grima_?” 

 

Really, emphasising her name wasn’t anything even remotely threatening.  Or new.  He’d already done it twice, and Aversa had a feeling he’d just keep going with that until she reacted, and she refused to give him that satisfaction.  While it did annoy her to no end, she’d rather just get on with this and do what she had to until she could leave.  She sighed discreetly, grabbed her bag and said, 

 

“It’s R4.  That way.”  Hopefully short answers would limit the hassle she’d get for the next three hours.  She stomped away, and the idiot trailed behind her, snickering, knowing that his taunting had affected her despite her best efforts to hide it.  She just knew that her day was basically ruined.  

 

*****

 

As Chrom pulled up to the curb a couple of houses down from the townhouse at 629 Karys Avenue (the fire hydrant on their lawn meant that he couldn’t park right in front and they had to cross the street or park farther down if they were not parking in the driveway), he swatted at his passengers.  The two of them had been ignoring Chrom’s repeated warnings, and were plotting just what to do with Chrom once they got him alone and in bed.  While he hadn’t been directly involved in the planning, and had done his best to focus on his driving, his pants were definitely feeling tighter than they had when he’d first gotten in the car.  

 

Chrom shifted awkwardly, turning to look at the white-haired man and his brunet boyfriend who stopped their excited conspiratorial whispers and looked at him with (frankly terrifying) mischievous stares.   Their devilish poker faces made Chrom swallow past the sudden lump in his throat.  He felt his pants get even tighter.  Chrom cleared his throat, and hoped he wasn’t blushing enough to alert the neighbours of anything untoward. 

 

“Shall we?” he finally choked out.  Robin burst into laughter, clearly almost ready to go in for a kiss, until Frederick smacked him, reminding him that they couldn’t do that to Chrom.  Not where he was scared others might see and report him to the military, or, more likely, the media.  They were all clearly anticipating what would be happening soon, and it would be soon enough. 

 

By unspoken agreement, they all scrambled out of the car at the same time, collecting whichever bag was in easy reach regardless of who’s it was and heading up the paved walkway to the front steps.  As Frederick fought with their stubborn lock, Robin scanned the area for nosy bystanders.  Satisfied that everyone else in their student-and-young couple-filled neighbourhood was otherwise occupied on a Tuesday early afternoon, he nodded at Chrom as they finally stepped over the threshold and into the townhouse.  

 

The three young men made a beeline for the basement stairs, only pausing long enough to close and lock the front door behind them, and make sure no other housemate was currently present, despite the home normally being unoccupied at this time.   After finally making it downstairs, past the laundry room and into their living room, closing their own door behind them, the three men stopped for a moment.  They each lay down the multitude of bags all over the couch.  Frederick handled the garment bag with enough care that Chrom didn’t have to worry about his fancy clothing in his hands as the blue haired man dropped Robin’s backpack onto the cushions and Robin tossed the dark duffle Chrom had brought with him onto the soft blue fabric next to Frederick’s messenger bag.  Robin ran off to find something he and Frederick had clearly been planning for a while, though the blue-haired military man didn’t have too much time to contemplate what that might be.  

 

Considering that Robin had been the one to almost make a move on him in the car, Chrom was honestly a little surprised that it was Frederick who spun him around, pinning him to the back of the couch and kissing him breathless; the bigger man was usually more reserved.  So while Chrom returned the kiss with enthusiasm, holding tightly to the well-built frame in front of him, he did also blink confusedly at the dark eyes staring back at him before they drifted shut.  Chrom sank into the strong hold Frederick had on him; there was no escape.  Not that Chrom wanted to get away.  This was exactly why he had come here in the first place.  Some fun with people he trusted and cared about.  

 

Their hands slowly explored, holding each other close as their lips met again and again, tongues sweeping past teeth and inviting the other in a dance.  Frederick’s hands caressed Chrom’s shoulders and chest, and while the blue-haired soldier had no complaints, it wasn’t where Frederick’s focus usually lay.  The strange behaviour was readily enough explained however, when a voice whispered in his ear. 

 

“You’re wearing his sweatshirt.  He loves us in his clothes.  Also, I’ve been looking for that hoodie for ages, you dick.” 

 

Robin’s hands joined Frederick’s on Chrom’s body, teasing his nipples through layers of cloth before dipping lower to play at Chrom’s waistband.  The jeans rode low on his hips, teasing hints of skin and a fine trail of dark blue hair a straight line to Robin’s prize.  By now Chrom was decidedly uncomfortable in his jeans; Robin’s deft fingers tracing the outline of his cock through denim and a metal zipper didn’t help much.  Of course, Fred’s breath was stuttering between kisses now, as Robin’s hand was pressed solidly against them both, so Chrom wasn’t the only one being distracted.

 

The two dark-haired men broke apart, only for Chrom to see Robin grab Frederick’s hair and pull him into a fierce kiss, all wet tongue and teeth.  Chrom lost what little breath he’d caught at the sight, and a small squeak (which he would forever deny came from him) escaped his lips as he watched the two lovers before him kiss with passion and ease.  He could feel Fred chuckle against his chest as the man continued caressing Chrom’s left shoulder with one hand, the other now at the back of Robin’s neck.  Robin’s hand was pressed against Frederick’s chest between them, his body all along their sides.  They were a tight bundle of simmering passion and anticipation. 

 

Robin eventually broke free from the kiss.  He wasted no time before going for Chrom’s lips with the same kind of fervour.  Clearly they had missed him as much as he them, even if he wasn’t a regular presence in their relationship.  Frederick was quite skilled in many things, including somehow angling Chrom so that his right side pressed against the back of the couch and his front was becoming once again intimately acquainted with the feel of Robin against every inch of him.  Their erections pressed together through their pants, and Chrom bucked his hips at how good it all felt.  Robin moaned into his mouth, pressing harder against him.  The two lost awareness of Frederick for a moment as they continued to make out. 

 

Fred, meanwhile, had collected himself enough to watch the two for a brief moment, before taking the time to swiftly undo his pants and shirt buttons.  Clearly Chrom was impatient, and while Fred and Robin had teased and planned many things on the ride over (and before, as well, when they lay in bed together missing their friend), perhaps this first round would be more carnal than they had anticipated.  

 

When the two broke apart and saw Fred with his black tie undone and still hanging over the collar of his open shirt, they each simultaneously grabbed at one end, pulling him in towards them.  They each picked a side of his neck and started trailing wet, hot kisses against the skin freed from the stiff white collar.  Fred’s head fell back, exposing more skin to them.  He wasn’t entirely sure, but it felt almost as if the two had started kissing each other right over his Adam’s apple.  For such a weird sensation, it sent tingles straight to Fred’s groin and he was thankful his pants were already loosened. 

 

“Bed,” he managed to choke out as the two men decided it was his turn to be groped.  Their moans echoed against his skin, tingling hot breath over dampened skin feeling cool enough to elicit a shiver from the large steward-to-be.  They did, however, take his word to heart; and pried themselves away, walking on unsteady legs towards the door that separated Robin and Fred’s bedroom from the rest of their man cave.  Chrom didn’t let go of the two ends of the tie, pulling Frederick along behind them. 

 

*****

 

Aversa whipped the sweat from her brow with the back of her arm, trying to avoid the dirt coating her gloved fingers.  That was the last piece of plastic rib she had to extract.  It was only one of hundreds of different fragments of  “remains” she’d collected over the last four and a half hours.  She had taken the appropriate reference photos, detailed notes, and even tagged the GPS positions of each and every bit of artificial, brown plastic she’d pried out of the R4 search quadrant.  

 

Her lab partner had been as helpful as expected, meaning not at all.  The bastard had kept making cracks about her name until he’d gotten bored, started playing on his phone and then just left without so much as lifting his brush to swipe at a layer of dirt.  Aversa had covered the entire seventy five square metre area on her own, more than doubling the time she was supposed to be out in the dirt and surrounded by late fall wasps, all drunk and angry and dying.  At least she’d made it through the lab time only being scratched by tree branches, unlike the girls partnered two sections over, who had accidentally found a wasp nest in their section.  Aversa had been overjoyed, the attention finally shifting from her and letting her get her work done in peace.  

 

It was finally done, each piece labeled and wrapped in protective cloth.  Aversa was free to leave once she gathered up all her equipment.  She made sure her brushes, shovels, trowels, scrapers, and other equipment were all as clean as they would get, then packed them away.  Aversa put her camera and GPS back into their cases, and clipped the bags to her main pack.  The fragments she now had to identify and report on were tucked into the main compartment of her backpack, next to her tools.  She’d be doing the report for next week.  Everything was set.  She just had to hike back out of the woodlot, down to the parking lot, and get home.  

 

She hefted her bag over her shoulder and walked away, ignoring the snickers and glares of some of the students still left doing their recovery training, lagging because they were incompetent or focused on gossiping about Aversa’s family (or both).  It was good to be going home.  

 

*****

 

The three men stumbled their way through a door not wide enough to accommodate them plastered together as they were, and Robin ended up almost face-planting on the dark blue comforter piled at the foot of their bed.  Chrom caught his arm and pulled him up, laughing, and the urgency was cut for a moment while the men looked at each other. 

 

Chrom took in the familiar cozy bedroom, and froze when he noticed what Robin had probably gone to set up while Fred accosted him.  A tripod with a small, high-end video camera sat in the corner of the room, between the closet door and the bookshelf.  It was set up in such a way as to clearly see the entire bed, possibly also the mirror on top of the chest of drawers against the wall beside it.  Chrom gulped, tense.  His erection waned a bit as he continued to stare.  

 

Frederick came up behind him and wrapped him in a hug.  While Chrom felt the hot press of Frederick at his rear, he also felt comforted.  Robin came up next to them and put his hand to Chrom’s face, gently pressing until Chrom turned his head to look into the brown-grey eyes that were observing him.  

 

“We know you’re scared.  We know you couldn’t ever let yourself be on camera.  We know that,” Robin reassured.  “We aren’t asking you to be in the video.  We’d like you to take it.  Have a memory on record, so to speak, even if you can’t carry it with you.”  Robin’s words were so calm, so soothing, that Chrom’s shoulders dropped, relaxed.  He leaned back against Fred and pondered what they were both offering and asking him to do.   

 

“We will do whatever you want.  Your choice this time,” Fred’s low voice quietly promised.

 

Chrom could still feel his heart pounding -- for all the wrong reasons.  Thoughts about the dangers of any kind of proof, of _what ifs_ – the military, Sumia, his family, hers, Robin and Frederick, _everyone_ , dragged through a media and military spectacle, because of him.  The activities that he so wanted to indulge in posed such a great risk to those he loved most, simply because of his career choice.  How could he possibly ask them to do what they were proposing?  How could they put themselves at risk by being with him?  He wasn’t the only one with everything to lose.  

 

Chrom knew, of course.  Just by the look in Robin’s eyes, he knew.  They’d point out that there was no risk, nothing they wouldn’t do for each other.  Frederick held him closer, clearly reading Chrom, even from behind.  Chrom also knew that any recordings where even the merest hint of him were present would be thoroughly deleted before he left for the gala tonight.  His friends were careful with him.  Always so careful.   

 

“Then the camera stays off this time.  Because as hot as you two are and as stunning a visual as it would be, I want to get fucked, and I’m not getting fucked on camera.  I can tell you want to fuck me too, so we can deal with your exhibitionistic needs after round one.”  

 

Robin’s eyes darkened, and Frederick’s breath stopped for a moment.  Chrom wasn’t normally so forward, but their instant reactions were quite clear.  Frederick spun him around, pressing full body against him as he kissed him, hands on either side of his face.  Robin started working his hands between them, pulling at Chrom’s belt, trying to open it to get to Chrom’s hardening dick.  

 

Eventually, Chrom and Frederick parted and, by some signal, each man began to furiously strip his remaining clothes.  They glanced at each other, watching as skin was revealed.  Eyes traced familiar paths, following skin until they stood bare in front of each other.  Fred and Robin each held out a hand, and Chrom took them in his own, letting the men pull him into their bed.

 

As they arranged themselves on the bed, Chrom in the middle, the men touched as much as possible.  Skin to skin, hands everywhere.  Chrom felt a cock in his hand, hot and hard, precome dripping over his fingers as they stroked along the shaft.  This was what he craved most when he was in uniform -- the utter freedom and release of just being with the people he loved, in the most basic and unifying way possible.  

 

Someone’s fingers were sliding along the cleft of his ass, rubbing against hypersensitive skin.  The lack of touch there usually meant that every cell was reacting to each touch, hungry for more the moment it had been awakened.  Chrom didn’t know whose fingers they were, eyes closed, lips busy kissing lips, hands running along the skin in front of him.  He moaned at the loss when they left.  His skin felt both heated and chilled, aroused and needing a touch that was currently lacking.  

 

He groaned against the neck he was kissing, biting down to try to muffle his sounds when the fingers returned, slightly cooled by the rapidly warming lube that was now slicking along his ass.  He pressed eagerly back, little encouraging gasps filling the air between skin in warm puffs as the finger gently traced around his hole, pressing ever so slightly at him until it pulled away. Chrom was nearly delirious at this point; having held back from visiting Fred and Robin for so long, anything they did made his resolve crumble.  He was sure that he was begging, pleading with the men to just get on with it, but he wasn’t sure if he was even making sense.  

 

One of them must have taken pity on him, because the next thing Chrom knew, the finger was back, even slicker than before, and the pressure didn’t let up when he bucked back.  Slowly, surely, the finger pressed into him and Chrom did his best to relax.  It had been a long time since he had last managed to indulge with his lovers, and he knew his ass was tight.  It would be foolish to rush and risk hurting him, or his lovers, and being stretched was always a pleasure Chrom didn’t take enough time to relish.  As the finger worked inside him to find his prostate, Chrom opened his eyes to see Frederick pulling away from him.  

 

Curious, Chrom watched as the brunet bent over and brought his mouth to Chrom’s straining erection, licking delicately at his lips.  The dark haired man blew gently, watching Chrom twitch at the new sensations.  Fred reached for a condom and rolled it sensually down Chrom’s shaft.  Chrom felt precome as it dripped out of the tip and added slickness to the condom, the feel of another’s hand on him building anticipation, even slightly dulled by the thin barrier protecting him as it was.  Frederick worked his tongue around the head, teasing and light, eyes darkening at the feel of a cock on his lips, keeping eye contact with the blue haired soldier as he teased.  Chrom swallowed hard as those full lips closed over the head, and a hot wet mouth enveloped him at the same time as Robin pressed another finger in.  The dual sensations had Chrom unable to catch his breath.  A choked off moan nearly strangled Chrom with its intensity.  Strong fingers wrapped in Fred’s hair to hold him in place, gentle and firm.  The grip wasn’t tight, but it grounded Chrom.  The slow in and out of Robin’s fingers as they caressed his inner walls only served as a reminder of what was to come, Fred somehow keeping excellent time, pulling off and sucking on Chrom in the same steady rhythm. 

 

Robin worked slowly, thoroughly lubing his fingers and stretching Chrom with more patience than Chrom wanted as Fred continued to suck him in time to Robin’s ministrations.  The buildup was sweet agony.  Chrom desperately wanted to have a cock in him.  Not even Frederick’s talented mouth could completely distract him from what Robin was doing to make him ready for a fucking.  It was dirty and hot and desperate and _absolute torment_ to go _so slowly_.  Chrom knew that it was pathetic how easily these two could reduce him to a mewling mess, as if he had never been touched before, but in this moment it did not matter one bit how flushed his face was, all that mattered was the touch of his lovers all around him.   

 

Eventually, Chrom felt as if his muscles were loose enough and Robin seemed to agree because the fingers pulled out, and weren’t immediately replaced covered in more lube.  There was a bit of shifting, and rustling sounds were made as Robin and Fred manhandled Chrom until he was straddling Fred, who lay on his back, propped up on pillows.  Chrom looked down at the dark haired man and smiled.  The rosy flush spread across Frederick’s face and down his chest.  Chrom followed it with his eyes, until they settled on the cock that was rubbing against his own straining member.  He swallowed hard.   

 

Robin helped Chrom lift himself up on his knees and position Frederick’s cock at his opening.  The tip of the slick condom teased at his hole, making Chrom lick his lips in anticipation.  They all paused a moment, waiting.  Then Chrom sank down slowly, feeling the stretch and burn of a sizeable, well-formed erection sliding into him.  Even through the thin latex, Chrom could feel how hot Frederick was, how little give there was in his flesh.  None of them would last long at this rate.   

 

Eventually Chrom’s ass touched Fred’s hips, and he took a moment to settle, relaxing the muscles clenched around the cock inside him, relishing the feel of being full and still stretching a little to accommodate the intrusion.  Robin straddled Frederick’s legs behind Chrom, pressing up against his back and wrapping his arms around Chrom’s chest.  Fingers trailed little random paths all over his front as Chrom just breathed, content where he was now that he was filled and surrounded by both his male lovers.  Robin’s hard cock pressed against the top of Chrom’s ass, a tantalizing promise Chrom knew they didn’t have time for this visit.  Robin’s fingers found his cock and started caressing lightly, fingertips teasing around his head, shifting the latex around and making Chrom raise his hips slightly to chase the sensations.  Robin’s lips were against his neck and shoulders, teeth and tongue trailing everywhere in blazing strips of lightning.   

 

Chrom shifted his weight, gathering strength in his thighs as he slowly lifted himself up.  Robin held his hips steady, Frederick braced his arms.  When only the tip of Fred’s cock remained inside him, Chrom held still for a fraction of a second before sinking all the way down.  He kept repeating the motion, slowly at first, before picking up speed as he opened even more for the length of heated flesh inside him.   

 

Fred grunted, feeling how tight Chrom still was around him.  The sight of his two lovers wrapped around each other, one riding him as the other teased, just spurred him on.  As much as the view of Robin playing with Chrom excited him, Frederick knew he couldn’t do what Chrom wanted if Robin was sitting on his legs.  The next time Chrom raised himself (military training had wonderful non-military uses), Fred shifted his legs.  Although Robin gave him an unimpressed look from where he was leaving a hickey on Chrom’s shoulder, he got off, keeping his hand on Chrom’s cock.  This gave Fred the freedom to plant his feet against their solid mattress and thrust just as Chrom sank back down.  

 

The moan Chrom made when Fred thrust up into him was music to Robin’s ears.  Robin caressed both of his lovers, cuddling up to Fred and watching Chrom ride cock like a pro.  Frederick worked to meet him thrust for thrust, and they were clearly driving each other nearly insane with pleasure.  One of Fred’s hands moved from Chrom’s hips to Robin’s cock, finally giving Robin a bit of much needed relief.  The angles weren’t always perfect, and it took a moment for Fred’s thrusts to match with Chrom’s riding, but eventually the men fell into the perfect rhythm.  It was hard to tell whose moans and gasps were whose as they layered over each other, wanton and free from all restraint in a sensual harmony.   

 

Their pace picked up and Robin leaned back up to kiss Chrom passionately.  Frederick redoubled his efforts, pounding up into the blue haired soldier furiously as they all approached climax.  Chrom came first, the double sensations of Robin’s hand and Frederick’s cock enough to tip him over the edge.  Fred followed as Chrom spasmed around him, tightening and dragging out a moan with Fred’s orgasm.  Robin finished himself off quickly; desperate and enthralled with how beautiful his lovers looked in their pleasure.   

 

As the three of them slowly and stiffly detangled themselves from each other and flopped onto the bed, Chrom groaned as muscles protested the vigorous activity, unused to being demanded of in this way.  Robin was sprawled across the left side of the bed, furthest from the door.  Chrom fell back to the foot of the bed, a muffled thump signaling his landing in the twisted comforter.  Fred stayed where he was on the right side of the bed, sinking further into the pile of pillows; Robin stole one of them to prop himself up slightly.   

 

The room was quiet as they caught their breath, enjoying the afterglow.  The men dozed lightly, cooling sweat glistening on exposed skin.  They couldn’t clearly say whether or not they actually fell asleep, but they rested comfortably in each other’s presence.   

 

*****

 

Aversa pulled Anna’s car into the driveway, bumper right up to the door of their tiny garage so that the Grimamobile could fit behind the other vehicle when Raina got home.  She was careful not to scratch any of the red paint, gently nosing it forward until it was as close as she could go.  She was only allowed to take the vehicle when she had to drag all her equipment with her and Anna only had a class or two to get to; otherwise Aversa would have been taking a cab or the bus home.  She was _not_ going to jeopardize her permission to drive Isadora by denting the Feroxi coupé.   

 

Robin’s bike was chained to the railing of the stairs, as was the norm when he could get a ride with Raina.  Knowing that it was Tuesday, even if she’d gotten done with her lab late, Aversa was looking forward to a few more hours of solitude to unwind and figure out what to do about the rumours starting up again.  Taking the keys out of the ignition and sliding out of the driver’s seat with more grace than should have been possible in her exhausted and angry state, Aversa turned around to get her things from the passenger seat.  

 

She grabbed all her packs and headed up the stairs to the door, unlocking it and bringing her stuff to the dining room, which doubled as the workroom of whoever claimed it first that day.  No one had an actual work or study space in their townhouse, so overall everyone was happy to share the one large table they did have.  She cleared up some of Robin’s research notes, stacking them on a chair in the closest semblance of order she could discern, and then laid out her own work on a drop cloth she had pulled from her pack.  She double-checked that she had everything she needed, and then got herself a water bottle from the fridge.  She settled back down to get the identification and report rough draft done, before moving on to her other homework. 

 

*****

 

The three men in the bed shifted as they cooled and dozed, eventually all lining up to have their heads on the pillows, fighting over blankets and settling in for more of a nap than a simple post-coital flop.   Fred ended up in the middle, arms pinned under his two wonderful lovers as they curled into him.  Breathing evened out again and Robin set an alarm to ring in half an hour just to make sure Chrom wouldn’t miss getting ready for the gala.  Soon enough, the only sound in the room was snoring as the men relaxed into sleep.  

 

*****

 

Sometimes, Aversa doubted her choice in major.  She loved what she _could do_ , but hated what she was _doing_.  Classes and labs were dull.  Most people would say that sociocultural anthropological archeology focused on religious artifacts on islands no one could live on was dull, but Aversa had to disagree.  At least when she was in the field she could actually _do_ something with her knowledge and her passion.  Sitting in class listening to people drone on and argue about whether a pottery fragment was 600 or 603 years old, or whether or not it proved that the Shin people had arrived in Valm before the now Rosanneans or after didn’t exactly excite the spark of discovery for Aversa.  Nor was reading a hundred pages about it any more interesting at the moment.  Pottery just wasn’t her specialty, and this month’s focus in her archeology class was almost as bad as the practical forensic anthropology course she had to take.  

 

She liked Professor Tiki Naga (who was also her Master’s degree supervisor, organizing all of the expeditions and field experiences Aversa had), but the narcoleptic woman made little sense half the time when they were in class, even when she was awake.  A narcoleptic talking in their sleep was definitely an experience Aversa wished she had less of.  Aversa’s notes were a complete mess and not helping her take short cuts at all, frustrating her even more.  University was a waste and dull, and Aversa needed something to cheer her up, especially after that morning’s disastrous lab and the grueling task of writing up the corresponding report.  Clearly, her other coursework wasn’t going to make her feel much better.  

 

Even the assignments for her artefacts recovery class were nothing but sifting the dust from one old text to the next for “proof” that this bit of clay was a part of this other bit of bigger clay.  As she sat at the table in the dining room and looked at all the photos of different coloured dirt, Aversa felt the headache from earlier coming on again, and sat back with a sigh.  She sipped her cold coffee and made a face at the bitterness that did nothing to make her vision stop swimming.  A break was clearly called for. 

 

No one else was supposed to be home for a while yet, this being one of the late days for Anna and Raina, and Robin tended to spend hours at the library after class on Tuesdays because no one else was home early either.  Frederick sometimes had kitchen time booked, or had stages, gods above Aversa even had his snotty voice saying it in her head, all fancy and mock French and pretentious, at local hotels and restaurants and he usually tried to arrange them for Tuesdays as well.  It meant that Aversa would be able to indulge in her private bath time rituals without being disturbed.  She just had to get everything ready. 

 

*****

 

Chrom stood behind the camera, watching the mini-LCD screen with one eye and the view on the bed with the other.  He’d been careful to thoroughly explain the basics of what he wanted them to do before turning the camera on, so that there would be no need for his voice to come from behind the lens.  The rest of the show was up to them.  

His two lovers were getting into position, settling into the bed and each other’s space.  Frederick gathered up the required materials and set them next to him on the bed, in easy reach when the time was right for them to become involved. 

 

*****

 

Aversa was wrapped up in her robe, soft and fuzzy, dark grey and luxurious.  Soft, freshly laundered towels hung on the heated towel rack in the upstairs bathroom, and several mild lavender blossom candles burned in a variety of holders placed strategically around the room, lighting it up without needing to turn the lights on. Mirrors, glass, and tile sparkled in the candlelight.  The lavender, sandalwood, and cedar-scented bubble bath was ready to be frothed in the steaming water.  Her beaten black Crocs squeaked against the floor as she settled a small speaker on the shelf and plugged in her iPod, queueing up a playlist appropriate for the soothing bath time Zen.  Aversa added a few drops of peppermint oil on a tissue before hanging it over the shower curtain rail to help with the dull throbbing behind her eyes.  All was ready for her to get rid of this headache and unwind.

 

There was only one problem.

 

That problem was finding the cleansing and calming incense she wanted to burn along with the candles.  She used it sparingly, to help rid herself of negativity and stress after particularly harsh days.  She knew she had a full box left from before her last trip, but it wasn’t with her other candles or incense, nor was it with her bathing supplies or yoga equipment.  It was gone.  Anna wouldn’t have used it without telling her, and probably would have just replaced it with a new box if she had.  Her girlfriend liked the smell because it reminded her of Aversa, so she’d sometimes burn the incense while her lover was away.  Frederick didn’t particularly like the ashes the sticks left behind, because they were sticky and coloured and smeared everywhere, so he wasn’t the culprit.  Her sister Raina may have hidden the box as a prank, but she also knew Aversa’s tolerance for pranks was non-existent when she was recently back from a trip, and was generally too interested in the next hot nurse to cross her path to be playing petty pranks like stealing a box of lavender-vetiver incense from her big sister. The more Aversa looked for the purifying sticks, the more she needed them.  Her day just plain sucked, and her head hurt enough to make seeing straight difficult.  

 

That left Robin.  He was the only other one who really used the incense and candles for anything, and he was absent minded enough to not to cover his tracks and replace her stash if he used it up.  He also never restocked his own favourites, so Aversa had caught him digging for candles and incense sticks in her supplies before.  He probably had the box open in his room downstairs, scattered everywhere and driving Frederick absolutely crazy.  There was only one way to find out: after making sure that the candles were safe enough to leave for a few minutes, Aversa went downstairs to the basement where her brother and his partner made their manly abode.  

 

With the way her day had gone so far, Aversa really shouldn’t have been surprised at what happened next.  Well, at least she had that image seared forever in her brain to look forward to now.  

 

*****

 

Frederick leaned over Robin, caressing the ties at his wrists and making sure that they were both tight enough to hold him in place, and loose enough to not harm his circulation.  The ties were secured to metal loops drilled into the back corners of the headboard, solid and unyielding.  The luxurious silk fibers were strong, but smooth, and made for this purpose.  The length meant that there was still a bit of slack, enough so that his arms could rest comfortably against the pillows without straining his shoulders, but rendering him otherwise immobile.   

 

Frederick gave Robin a quick peck on the lips, loving the power he had over Robin.  The thickly padded strip of silk was soft around Robin’s eyes, and blocked out all light; there was no chance of the brilliant young man expecting anything that would happen.  Chrom had only told Robin that he’d be the one tied up, since Chrom and Frederick had the most fun last round.  Frederick knew what else was coming, and a part of him wanted to turn and give Chrom a smirk over his shoulder, but he knew that he couldn’t.  He satisfied himself with knowing that Robin couldn’t see the evil glint in his eye as he moved down the bed to tie Robin’s ankles to the discrete hooks in the corners there. 

 

Once his white-blond lover was secured to the bed and thoroughly immobile, spread eagle and already hard in anticipation, Frederick leaned back to enjoy the view in front of him.  Robin was always a delectable sight, and Frederick enjoyed it while he could.  His fingers ghosted over the form of his partner, lighting up his skin.  Frederick knew how sensitive some of Robin’s skin could be, and intended to play with that knowledge.  He took his time, touching Robin everywhere.  Pants and moans and gasps egged the brunet on, and he got lost in the sensation of Robin beneath him.  Although Chrom was behind them, watching along with the camera, this moment was between him and Robin.  

 

Frederick kept one hand on Robin’s skin as he reached over for one of the items on the bed, out of view of the camera.  The pop of a cap being opened was loud in the mostly quiet room, and Robin tensed in anticipation, his cock jerking in excitement, dripping a bead of precome down the head.  Frederick chuckled as he spread lube over two fingers to warm it before sliding one around Robin’s exposed opening.  Robin jumped at the unexpected touch but quickly pushed back, eager.  

 

Frederick slid one finger into Robin, easy and slow, twisting to coax muscles loose.  He slowly worked the man open, left hand still trailing over Robin’s chest, playing with his nipples, tracing muscles as the right hand stretched him.  Robin probably anticipated the second lubed up finger his lover pushed into him, but wasn’t prepared for the loss when shortly after stretching him just that little bit more, Fred pulled his fingers out and left him empty.   

 

Frederick leaned over and picked up something else from the bed on Robin’s far side.  He played with the items for a moment, hiding them from view with his hands.  A barely audible hum filled the room briefly before Frederick was pressing something into his lover.  One hum stayed more audible, the other became more sensation than sound.  Robin arched his back and gasped; the toy being pressed into him vibrated and teased at his opening as it slid by.  Robin moaned, clearly enjoying the sensations and finally, finally understanding how the rest of the encounter would go.  The teasing would be incredible, because no one had patience like Frederick did. 

 

The vibrating bullet slid in, nestled right against his prostate by the finger that followed it in to position it for maximum teasing.  Robin knew exactly which toy it was because without being pulled out, the vibrations intensified and Robin’s dick jumped again.  The vibrations he could still hear intensified, the bullet matching the remote’s frequency.  He twisted against his restraints, not to get away but to get _more_.  Just the thought of the teasing, without knowing what was coming, almost made Robin beg right then and there, but he knew that there’d be reason to beg soon enough.  

 

Frederick went back to teasing his lover with feather-light touches all over his body, from the soles of his feet, over his ankles, and up his body, until he reached his hair.  Then Frederick went all the way back down.  Over and over, hands trailed against his skin until Robin couldn’t quite catch his breath anymore.  

 

“Please,” the whispered plea fell from Robin’s lips, quiet as if he knew that it wouldn’t do much good.  

 

Frederick stopped his touches, and for a moment Robin was left in complete darkness, nothing but the vibrations inside of him and his bindings to tether him to the present.  He moaned at the loss of touch.  He wanted more contact, more everything, not _less_.  He strained to reach Frederick with some part of his body, knowing by the heat radiating from the other man that he was somewhere around his hips, but he was tied too thoroughly to be able to touch his lover.  He eventually settled back, knowing that this time, Frederick was the one in control.   

 

When Robin stopped squirming quite so frantically, Frederick picked up the final object that had been lying next to them on the bed.  He took a moment to just admire the tool in his hand.  The beautifully polished wooden handle gleamed in the low light from the bedside lamps, dark grain standing out against the rich dark red cherrywood. The perfect, circular hole at the tip of the handle, through which a dark leather strap passed, was ideal for hanging or keeping a hold of the item, and was a perfect spyhole through which to trace the body laid bare in front of him.  The ring of polished silver joined the handle to the gloriously soft dark grey-brown ostrich feathers, and kept them pressed together in their beautiful bloom.  It was just such a beautiful, prized possession.  It had belonged to Frederick’s great grandmother and had been a gift to him early on in his childhood, when he was still allowed to play house and clean-up, before the pressures of his parents grew too heavy. 

 

It was also the perfect instrument of torture with which to tease Robin’s oversensitive skin.   

 

Frederick broke his admiring gaze on his precious feather duster, and leaned over his prone lover.  At first, the feathers didn’t even touch Robin’s skin, ghosting just above it, so that it was the air moving that Robin felt tightening his nipples, and nothing more.  He continued in this manner, tracing patterns, letters, and symbols into the air above his precious Robin’s skin until he reached his straining, red cock.  The flesh was slick with sweat and precome, eager and thick where it lay against his stomach.  It was an invitation Frederick couldn’t resist.   

 

The first touch of feathers on his cock was overwhelming and Robin froze, his body rigid as he forgot to breathe.  He strained against the silk ties, pumping his hips into the air.  Every cell of skin was alive with lightning. The gentle tickle of fibers on his cock head was amazing. As the feather duster trailed over more and more flesh with actual contact, Robin couldn’t help but squirm.  It tickled, but the intense feeling also wreaked havoc on his mind.  Fred had lit up his skin with his fingers, and now the feathers were both the sweetest release and brightest torture imaginable.  Robin knew that this was what Chrom had been hiding from him when he told him what would happen.  Oh gods, was he ever lost to what the two of them did to him.   

 

Frederick was lost in the pleasure of teasing his lover, and Robin was clearly almost delirious from overstimulation.  The two men were so focused on each other, and Chrom was pleased that his suggestion for them had worked so well.  He adjusted himself in his boxers, damp fabric tented and straining against the flesh inside.  The view was incredible, dark and light moving together in the oldest dance.  The camera picked up every detail, capturing every instant for them to relive later.   

 

It was clear that they would keep going for a long time yet, so Chrom stepped into their modest walk-in closet to sit and do something about his own building pleasure.  The single wooden chair in the closet was usually used for putting on socks and shoes, but it would serve just as well as a place to hold himself up while he jacked off to the image of two beautiful men fucking just the way he told them they’d be.  It meant he couldn’t see everything that was happening, but the noises were definitely enough to paint a vivid picture in Chrom’s imagination.   

 

The feather duster was caressing Robin’s nipples, alternating between rough and soft as the direction changed, when there was a banging clatter outside their door and it burst open, revealing Aversa in her grey bathrobe and black Crocs, fire in her eyes.  She had taken a couple of long strides into the room before she stopped, frozen like a deer in the headlights when she realized she hadn’t been as alone as she’d thought.   

 

Frederick also froze, wide-eyed and panic-stricken at being caught doing this.  There was also Chrom to consider, who had luckily not left the closet when he had heard the commotion in the main bedroom.  At least for now the blue haired man was safe.  Frederick hoped against hope that he would stay hidden, and that there would be no drama.  He and Robin would endure whatever torture Aversa was sure to cook up if it meant Chrom never had to be found out.  

 

“Frederick?” The confused whine broke Aversa and the brunet from their stare down and made them both look at Robin on the bed.  Aversa blinked a couple of times, the rage in her eyes transforming with almost mercurial quickness to absolute mirth.  

 

“Is that your precious feather duster there, Freddy Bear?” The dark low chuckle that accompanied the words made Robin flush for entirely the wrong reasons and he struggled vainly to get out of his bindings.  This just served to draw his adopted sister’s attention to them, and she smirked.  As a beet-red Frederick hurried to untie his boyfriend from their bed, Aversa’s laughter just grew and grew until the almost hysterical notes filled the entire room with their grating, hyena-like sound.  They covered the click of her nails against her phone’s camera button well, and Aversa knew that she had them exactly where she wanted them.   

 

By the time the two men were completely free of all the bindings and half-covered in pillows and sheets in an attempt at maintaining modesty, Aversa had already texted her discovery to Anna, Raina and Sully.  While the women were surely laughing about it, they were also likely enough to keep it from spreading further until Aversa needed them to spread the word.  Aversa could hold this information over the boys’ heads for _years_ with the visuals she had.  Her day had suddenly gotten much, much better. 

 

“Aversa…” Robin started but trailed off, clearly still extremely embarrassed and unsure of what he could possibly say.  He opened and closed his mouth a few more times before burying his face in his hands and slumping.  Frederick wrapped an arm around him and gave Aversa a glare.  

 

“While we know you’ve already texted probably half the world, we would appreciate if you refrained from shouting about this to the other half.  It's not like they need to know what we enjoy,” Frederick tried so hard for a level, calm and reasonable tone.  Oh, he tried so hard.  His flush could light the incense Aversa was still looking for from across the room, so his words lost a lot of their power as she continued to scrutinize the men.  

 

Aversa would keep quiet, only because it gave her more leverage.  But she still wanted something from the boys.  The question was what… What could they give her that she couldn’t get out of them anyway?  The chores were all fairly equally shared, and she got out of them anyway because of all her travelling.  Frederick was already the only good cook in the house, so homemade meals were a given.  Most standard things were already on offer, and there was nothing that popped into her head to ask for.  

 

That’s when Aversa noticed that her brother kept glancing over Frederick’s shoulder to the corner of the room by the closet.  She followed his gaze and her brother could have sworn she was a demon by the look on her face -- the grin she wore was positively evil.  She had them where she wanted them, and at this point there was no escape.  

 

“I’ll keep quiet.  For a price.  You guys do whatever I want for the next month.  Whatever it is.”  

 

The men nodded, eager enough to have gotten off with that as the only demand.  They relaxed, shoulders dropping, the cuddling less defensive, more comforting.  Aversa took pleasure in what she was about to do to them; maybe that made her a bad sister, but no one else was allowed to be mean to her Little Bird, so she got to have the honours.  

 

“And I want that video.”

 

Despite the story Aversa could tell everyone, actually having the video would be an entirely different matter.  Besides outright blackmail, Aversa was sure that the men looked beautiful together and the visuals would be titillating to someone, somewhere, possibly for the right price and with a touch of Tharja’s computer sorcery.  

 

The flushed skin before her turned white as Robin and Frederick looked positively sick.  Frederick kept opening and closing his mouth, like Robin had when they’d first been caught.  Robin swallowed and looked like he might vomit all over her Crocs.  The two men looked at each other.  They knew, just as Aversa did, that if she got that video, they’d be doing whatever she wanted for the next decade, not just the next month.  They also knew the risks of deleting it without giving it to her, considering what she’d seen and that she could tell anyone she wanted whatever she wanted to tell them.  

 

Frederick, being closer to the camera, got up and went over to the tripod.  He remembered Raina’s tales of Aversa’s witchdom, and she was clearly in a mood to terrorize.  It was better to do as she said, and hope for a way to mitigate the disaster later.  He disconnected the camera from the tripod and flipped the device so that he could access the memory card slot.  The protective cover stuck for a second before opening, and the brunet swore vehemently in frustration.  He finally pulled out the SD card and closed up the camera, putting it on top of the bookshelf before walking the card to Aversa.  She plucked it from his hand with a satisfied look, and turned on her heel to stride away triumphantly.  

 

Frederick leaned against the bookcase and crossed his arms, at this point no longer caring about being naked in front of his boyfriend’s older sister.  Defeat marred his face as he looked at Robin, still sitting on the bed.  The white-haired man was trying to smother himself with the pillow he was hugging.  

 

Aversa stopped in the doorway, not looking back as she said “Robin, return my incense to me by dinner.  I do so hate it when my stuff goes missing.” With those final parting words, she disappeared up the stairs and eventually the occupants of the room could hear water running elsewhere in the townhouse.  

 

“Well, that was… awful.  Really, really awful.”  

 

“You don’t have to tell me!  I was right here! Oh gods…” 

 

“Robin.” 

 

“Sorry.  Not your fault.  I know.” 

 

“You’re forgiven.” 

 

“...” 

 

“...” 

 

“You okay, Chrom?”  

 

The blue-haired man hadn’t made any noise since Aversa burst in, and the other two were worried he’d maybe had a heart attack while they hadn’t been able to check on him.  Robin finally uncurled from his foetal position to walk over to the tripod and move it aside, granting him access to the closet.  He stepped in, turning on the light, momentarily blinding himself.  

 

Chrom was curled up as far back from the door as he could be, in the shadows under Frederick’s suits.  He was rocking back and forth and breathing hard.  Robin approached slowly, as if Chrom were a spooked horse.  This was not good.  

 

Chrom saw the light come on and panicked even more.  The fact that the video was now in the hands of someone other than Frederick or Robin, despite not a trace of him present, terrified him.  He also couldn’t believe the two would give it up so easily.  A part of him was absolutely blind with rage, and it was slowly overpowering his fear; it was that part of him that made him lash out and throw a punch at the figure bending over him.  

 

Robin stumbled back with the force of the blow, tripping over the chair.  His back hit the wall with enough force for Frederick to come running into the small closet.  Robin rubbed his jaw, sore from the beating his face had just taken.  

 

“Chrom!” the brunet was going to say more, but was cut off by the man in hysterics sill sitting on his closet floor.  

 

“How could you give that to her?!  Why did you do it?!” Chrom’s voice trembled, heavy with both rage and fear.  Right now, Frederick was angry that his friend had actually dared to strike Robin for something they had little control over.  Robin understood Chrom’s fear, and put a hand out to stop his boyfriend from escalating the fight.  

 

“We didn’t exactly have a lot of choice, Chrom.  Come on, get up.  It’s over and it’s done.  Nothing we can do about it now.” Robin reached out a hand as he talked, despite Frederick’s looming presence behind him casting a threatening shadow on the young soldier.  

 

Chrom took the hand being offered him, and deflated.  Robin and Fred were right; there was nothing they could do.  And it wasn’t as if it was incriminating him in any way -- it was just deathly embarrassing to his best friends.  Really, if he hadn’t been directly threatened by the blackmail, he’d be laughing his ass off right now.  The story was too hilarious to pass up the chance at milking the situation for all it was worth.  

 

Then the thought struck him that he was in the clear, Aversa hadn’t known he was there and he wouldn’t be affected the way his lovers were.  The other two hadn’t mentioned him at all, and with Frederick being the one to get the memory card from the camera, Aversa hadn’t come near and seen him in the closet.  He was safe.  

 

The laughter took everyone by surprise.

 

It seemed to surprise Chrom most though, as he doubled over, leaned against Frederick, and absolutely lost his marbles.  The breathing was similar to the panicking of a few moments ago, but this time Chrom didn’t seem upset.  His wide blue eyes stared at nothing.  

 

“You guys.  Got caught.  Having kinky bondage sex.” 

 

It took a few seconds for the words to process, but when they did, Robin and Frederick burst into their own hysterical laughter, and soon all three men ended up sitting on the floor, practically on top of each other because there was no room.  When looked at that way, really, the situation was indeed pretty damned hilarious.   

 

The laughter continued for several minutes.  As soon as one man managed to stop, another would giggle and they’d all be set off again.  When the men could finally breathe, they sat back and looked at each other.  

 

“You know, it’s a good thing this camera has two memory card slots,” said Frederick as he patted Robin’s knee, the only part of his boyfriend he could currently reach.  

 

“You mean there’s nothing on the card you gave my sister?” Robin asked as Chrom studied the damage he’d done to the blond’s face.  

 

“That’s exactly what I mean, and I’ll reformat the other one before she notices, so that it’s empty too.”

 

“… You sneaky bastard.  Sorry I hit your boyfriend in the face.” Chrom gave Frederick an admiring look, grateful beyond words to have these people in his life.

 

Frederick merely nodded; clearly exhausted despite the short nap they’d had earlier.  It would take a few minutes to clean up, gather everything, and put it away properly.  It was best to hide these objects for a while, lest he and Robin spontaneously combust upon seeing them.  That’s when Frederick remembered that Robin still had the bullet in him, because he wasn’t going to take it out with his witch-sister watching them.  He spared a glance and indeed, Robin was half hard, his crushing embarrassment and the pain of a punch to the face no match for the constant stimulation against his prostate.  

 

Robin quirked an eyebrow at the weird look his boyfriend was giving him, before he followed his gaze down to his lap.  A flush spread as he realized what had caught the attention of the other man.  Then he looked back up and shrugged.  

 

“I’ll go clean myself up a bit, why don’t you two tidy up the bedroom?” Robin looked to each of them, before continuing “Chrom, you should probably shower super quickly, while she’s busy with her bath, and then get ready for the gala.  We don’t want Sumia to get angry at us.”  

 

“Sounds like a plan.  I’ll hop in the shower with one of you, so that we don’t have to ever turn the water off and she won’t suspect there’s a third person down here.” 

 

“I’ll take you then, Frederick is too tall and hogs all the water.” 

 

The three of them got up, only slightly caught up in each other, and then stumbled out into the bedroom to sort themselves out.   

 

*****

 

As Robin had predicted, it didn’t take long for all three of them to get clean and dressed again.  Chrom put on his dark blue tuxedo, silver-white shirt, and silver-striped deep blue waistcoat, all while watching Robin and Frederick put on sweatpants and t-shirts (Robin) or slacks and a button down that wasn’t white (Fred).  Soon enough, they were all presentable.  

 

“I should go.  I can’t be late, and I’d rather not encounter your sister right now.”  Chrom leaned up to give Frederick a quick kiss that turned into something not so quick, and then broke away to give Robin one, too.  

 

The three of them sorted out the bags on the couch, and Chrom followed Robin up the stairs to ensure that the coast was indeed clear before he slipped out the front door and down the lane to his car.  As the fall air cooled his still damp skin, Chrom considered everything that had happened that afternoon.  He really was one of the luckiest guys in the world.  Chrom chuckled, thinking of the horrors his friends would have to suffer through for the next eternity.  Freedom was such a precious gift.  

 

He started the car, and drove away from 629 Karys Avenue.  At the corner, Chrom picked up his phone and called up the text messages app, pulled up another of his frequent contacts and started typing with a smile.  

 

_I’m on my way to pick you up for tonight’s gala.  I should be there in forty five minutes.  I hope cream, pink and peach go well with your dress tonight._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Its finally here. Finally. 
> 
> It took so much longer than expected because I showed it to my gloriously skilled editor Poz who looked at me and said, "this is your rough draft, and we need to do a lot of work on it" when I thought it was done. Everything here is made better because of that keen set of eyes. Any mistakes are my own. This beast also wouldn't stop growing. The boys just wouldn't shut up to make my life easier. 
> 
> Feedback is always welcome! 
> 
> Happy Halloween!


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